December 3: "Bodysnatching" (from Hades Lord of the Dead)
A/N: Sequel to yesterday's. I'm assuming that Victorian schools had recess or something like it for ten-year-old kids, because if they didn't…that's very sad. And I didn't quite follow the prompt, but, enjoy!
Sherlock did read John Watson's story in the paper, and thought it was okay. Not better than his work, certainly, but he could see why others with less refined tastes would enjoy it. Still, he didn't pay the sandy-haired boy any more heed than any of the other boys in his class, preferring the company of a book to that of the other children during lunch and recess. However, one day he couldn't help but overhear a girl a year his junior talking to John in a forlorn, choked up voice as he passed them walking to the lunch hall.
"And I don't know where they could have possibly gone except that some mean boy is taking them!"
Sherlock's ears perked up. Really, it wasn't any of his business, but that did sound like a bit of a mystery. He turned back around and joined them.
"Pardon me, but what's been taken from you?"
Her eyes welled with tears and she wiped her nose on her sleeve.
John answered for her. "This is Ellie. She's my neighbor. And someone's stolen her toy soldiers. Her brother decided he was too old for them and so she has been playing with them during recess."
"Sometimes I play other games with friends instead and I leave them by a tree I like and go fetch them when recess is done," she chimed in. "But the past couple days, some of them have been stolen. I didn't see anyone go over to them, but when I went to fetch them yesterday, two were missing." She sniffled. "And today, three more! If I could just figure out who took them, my brother could make them give them back. He's very big— almost fourteen years old!"
"What makes you think a boy stole them and not a girl?" Sherlock asked.
"They started by stealing the ones with the highest military rank. I can't imagine any of the girls in my class caring about that."
Sherlock nodded, thoughtfully. He had an idea. "What if we set a trap tomorrow," he suggested. "Leave the soldiers under your usual tree, and you will pretend to play games with John and I, but we will actually be watching very closely to see who takes them. If I'm correct, it isn't a mean boy after all." He spent just a moment enjoying as their faces contort in confusion, then stalked off to lunch. This ought to be fun.
The next day came, and they did as Sherlock had proposed. About ten minutes into a very dull game of playing house, Sherlock pointed and exclaimed, "Aha! There's your thief."
The other two looked to the tree, and saw a dark bird with blue tailfeathers hopping about near the soldiers.
"Why," said Ellie, "that's just a bird!"
"A magpie, to be precise," Sherlock replied. "Patient now— we must see where it goes."
Sure enough, the bird scooped up one of the soldiers in its beak and disappeared into a nearby tree. The three children dashed to its base, noting that the lowest branch was about shoulder height for Sherlock, the tallest of them.
"Would you mind giving me a hand?" he asked John. The boy obliged, cupping his hands together for Sherlock to step into so he could clamber into the tree. A couple minutes later, he found his way to the bird's nest, which contained six toy soldiers and several coins. He put them all in his pocket and made his way back down, taking the last bit at a jump. Brushing his elbows and knees to rid them of any leaf bits, he grinned, then handed over the soldiers. "There you are, safe and sound."
"How on earth did you guess it was a magpie?" asked John.
"It wasn't a guess," Sherlock replied. "It was logic. Ellie hadn't seen any children near her stash of soldiers and after the first theft, surely she kept a better eye out."
Ellie nodded vigorously. "I surely did."
"And the most highest ranked soldiers were stolen first— most highly decorated, one might say." He pointed to a general. "Look at how much more shiny paint was used on this soldier than on a footsoldier. How could the magpie possibly resist? And this isn't the first time I've seen a magpie in the schoolyard. Once I thought it through, the question answered itself."
John's face split into a wonderstruck grin. "That's brilliant, Sherlock!"
Sherlock blushed. "Elementary."
